


How do you see us?

by Comixgal



Series: This is who we are [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton & Phil Coulson Friendship, Clint Barton & Phil Coulson relationship mentioned, Discussion, Dysphoria, Genderqueer, Genderqueer Character, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other, Protective Phil Coulson, Relationship Negotiation, Talking Like Adults, Understanding steve rogers, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comixgal/pseuds/Comixgal
Summary: Both Phil and Steve prefer to focus on dinner and a movie rather than on whatever is happening in their relationship. Enter Clint Barton in a onesie and Phil Coulson taking on a parental demeanor -- leaving Steve to wonder what is going on and what this all means.Cue lots of discussion.





	How do you see us?

With Steve’s order already relayed by JARVIS, boxes of Thai food were waiting for them when Steve came in.

“Paperwork all filed?” Steve asked, picking up the chopsticks and hoping they wouldn’t accidentally break.

“All filed!” Phil smiled and handed over a pair of metal chopsticks with wooden tips. “That’s a great blouse and skirt.”

Steve blushed but not out of fear or humiliation. Phil’s honest compliment made them feel warm. “Thank you. Bell helped me pick them out.”

“It suits you.”

They ate in contented silence for a little while. Steve had squashed the _polite_ impulse to compliment Coulson’s jeans and collared shirt.

“There’s an impressionist painting exhibit at the Met tomorrow. Would you like to go?”

Steve frowned at him. “I don’t appreciate you pushing me into the double-date with Bruce and Betsy.”

Phil’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t. I was just suggesting a nice thing to do. I didn’t say anything about Bruce or Betsy.”

Steve thought back to their earlier conversation and realized they hadn’t mentioned the archaeological exhibit that Bruce was visiting. Steve’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, Phil. I’m just a little on edge. You’re right. I never said that Bruce and Betsy were going to an exhibit at the museum.”

“That’s alright!” Phil snagged the last dumpling. “We can decide tomorrow about plans. There’s a new documentary I’ve been wanting to see. It’s about Dadaism.”

Steve smiled. “Sure. Sounds interesting.” It would be nice to just hang out without any pressure to socialize.

They were less than a quarter through the film when someone knocked on the door. Steve startled but Phil seemed to expect it. “I’ll be right back.” Phil said as we walked to the front hallway.

Steve heard low voices but couldn’t make out the words or the other speaker. They rolled off the cozy couch and headed to the entrance. Steve stopped still when Clint came into view. The man was wearing a single-piece fuzzy outfit with attached feet and a hood with bear ears. It looked like the coziest union jack pajamas Steve had ever seen.

Clint had also stopped talking. He was peering over Phil’s shoulder at Steve.

Oh shit! Steve fought the urge to hide when the realization hit that they were wearing a blouse and skirt and had been dysphoric all day.

“Steve.” Clint was obviously also trying not to hide. He kept his eyes up, looking at Steve’s face instead of letting his eyes wander to whatever Steve was wearing. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the middle of- uh- something.” His voice and stance wavered strangely.

Steve almost laughed. Had this been a date? Just dinner? Clint’s confusion somewhat mirrored their own. “We’re watching a documentary. Would you like to join us?”

Clint’s eyes snapped to Phil’s. “Um, I don’t want to bother you.”

“I was about to make some hot cider.” Phil said, moving out of the doorway.

“I want caramel syrup in mine.” Clint informed them as he padded into the room.

Phil smiled indulgently. “Cinnamon too?”

“Yep!” Clint curled onto the edge of the couch. He was hugging a pillow against his chest. Steve checked in on him from the kitchen and marveled at how young he looked. Clint shouted from his spot, “Can I have popcorn too?”

Phil rolled his eyes fondly. “I’m not making a fresh batch. You never finish it. I have a bag of white cheddar popcorn if you want a small bowl.”

“‘Kay.”

Steve carried the bowl over after Phil poured it out. 

“I like your skirt.” Clint said before stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Thanks buddy. I like your PJs.”

Clint grinned. “I have bear paws!” He thrust out his feet to show the bottoms.

The simple pleasure in this statement made Steve smile broadly. “I’m super jealous!”

“We could get you some.” Clint said, still eating the popcorn and getting pieces everywhere. “Phil has some.”

Steve turned to the older man. “Do you really?”

Phil had been watching their interaction with a look of apprehension. He wiped it quickly from his face when Steve looked over. “I do, actually. I have a lion onesie and a dragon onesie.”

“You should be a unicorn!” Clint said, bouncing a little in his excitement.

His joy was contagious and Steve loved it. “I think I would like that very much!”

Phil turned back into the kitchen to finish the apple cider.

“More!” Clint demanded, holding out the empty bowl. He had white cheddar powder all over his face and front.

“Young man! Is that how you ask for something?” Phil scolded from the kitchen.

Clint sighed, as if wounded and deeply put-upon. “Please, Steve, may I have more popcorn?”

“I’ll have to check with Phil.” Steve took the bowl. “I think we should get you cleaned up as well.”

Clint shrugged as he started picking kernels off his onesie.

Phil’s shoulders were tense when Steve came into the kitchen.

“Is Clint allowed more?”

“Yes.” Phil’s response was shorter than Steve expected.

“Hey.” Steve whispered, gently putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Am I intruding on something?” 

Phil tensed then relaxed. “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to mind.”

Hand still spread across Phil’s back, Steve said, “Is this something Clint needs?”

The Special Agent looked over and nodded. “Yes.”

“And is it something you need?”

Phil took a deep breath. “I don’t need _this_ specifically.” He whispered back. “But I like taking care of him. It’s usually after missions.”

“Is it sexual?” Steve wanted to know.

“No.” Phil shook his head. “I don’t know how much of this is my place to share. He didn’t have a good childhood. You know that. He needs this time. I like making him feel safe. Sex isn’t a part of this.”

“You _are_ very close, though.”

“Yes.” Phil looked up at him, eyes full of worry.

“He likes my skirt.” Steve offered -- recognizing that now was not the time to discuss sex, emotions, or the future.

Amusement made Phil’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “I already told you I thought your outfit was great. Don’t go fishing for more compliments.” He handed over a mug and a sippy cup. “Tell Clint that I’ll bring out the popcorn.”

Steve carefully walked the drinks out. “Phil says he’ll bring out more popcorn in a little bit.”

Still trying to mind his manners, Clint accepted the cup with a quick, “T’anks.” He sipped at it. “What are we watching?”

“It’s a documentary about dadaism.” Steve didn’t know whether he should assume that Clint understood what that meant.

“Cool.” He snuggled deeper into the couch.

Phil walked up behind them with two bowls and a mug. In a fond tone, he said, “He’ll fall asleep the minute he finishes his snack. He doesn’t care what the movie is about.”

“Will not!” Clint insisted. He tucked his feet closer to his body, giving Phil room to sit down.

“Okay, bud.” Phil took his spot on the couch and soon had two members of his team slowly encroaching on his space.

Steve glanced quickly to the side to see that Coulson had been right about Clint. The be-onesied sharpshooter was asleep within minutes, a thumb in his mouth and a finger hooked over his nose.

When the film was over, Phil heaved himself tiredly off the couch and looked lovingly down at them both. Steve smiled softly back up.

“Would you like me to move Clint to a bed?” The slightly stunned, slightly pleased look that this question earned made Steve feel warm.

“Oh, yes, please. Normally I have to wake him up for that.” Phil bent down and whispered quietly in Clint’s ear. “Clint, sweetheart, Steve’s going to bring you to bed. You’re safe. I’ll tuck you in.”

When Clint murmured a completely incoherent assent, Phil stepped back and let Steve scoop up the shorter man. Holding him as gently as if he were actually a baby bird, Steve made their way into the room that Phil held open. Prior to this evening, Steve might have found the distinctly childish decorations a little strange but now, it all made sense.

With Clint safely tucked into the bed, Steve and Phil returned to the living room.

Phil started cleaning while avoiding Steve’s eye.

“I never pegged you as being shy.” Steve finally said. “You told me you watched me sleep. And you said you’d help me figure out what I wanted -- whether our kinks matched up.”

The secret agent dropped into a chair and removed his glasses. “This isn’t a kink. Well, at least, I don’t think it is. It’s a relationship that provides mutual benefit but it isn’t sexual.”

“It isn’t _currently_ sexual.” Steve offered. “But it could be, if you both wanted that.”

“We’ve never discussed it.”

Steve crouched down in front of Phil. “We don’t have to either. Discuss it, that is. But I don’t want to hide things from you. I want to know when something arouses you or fulfills a desire and I want to share with you when something does the same for me.”

Phil wrapped his fingers around Steve’s head and slowly pulled them together for a kiss. When he let go he said, “I’ve always been attracted to Clint. I’ve always been too old for him. This paternal relationship is better. It gives Clint a chance to come down from a mission in a safe way. And I get to know that he’s cared for and not off getting drunk or hurt somewhere.”

“So that’s all you want?” Steve prodded.

“No. I want more. I’ve always wanted more. Even before this started, Clint has been high on my list of fantasy partners. Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, and, well, it doesn’t really matter. I’m lucky to have the two of you in my life. With Clint, I’m not going to ask for more.”

“You don’t think it will be reciprocated?”

It was with terrifyingly sad eyes that Phil said, “No, it would be. And I would be the jackass who coerced my younger, vulnerable, and subordinate colleague into a sexual relationship. We put abusers like that in jail. I’m not going to become one.”

Steve rocked back on their heels, physically recoiling from the picture Phil was painting. “That’s not you.” They said softly, fervently. “You need to let Clint make the decision too.”

“Emotionally, Clint is a child when he comes here in the evenings. He gets something deeply satisfying and cathartic from what we do. I don’t want to change that.”

“Okay. I understand that. But you’ve indicated that you think you could navigate my different needs. You don’t think you could do the same for Clint?”

Phil sat back in the chair, pulling away to take in as much of Steve as he could. “Why is this so important to you? Do you want me to be with Clint? Are you trying to find a way to get out of this relationship?”

Steve stood, smoothing out the way the skirt settled around their legs. “I’m done lying to myself and I’m not sure how much longer I can lie to the others. I watched Bucky go from meaningless encounter to meaningless encounter. I watched members of the Howling Commandos desperately desire one another and then die, having never spoken up.”

Phil opened his mouth to say something then shut it.

“The more I live my truth, the more it hurts to see others denying theirs. I know that’s not fair. And I know that Bell says everyone deserves to feel safe in how they express themselves. But this-” he pointed to the bedroom where Clint slept, “this is about two people who love one another and have saved each other's lives more times than I can count. You can both be brave enough to have this conversation. And I can be brave enough to be part of- or peripheral to whatever you decide on.”

It was with such earnest concern that Steve lifted Phil out of the chair. “I want to explore everything with you. I trust you to teach me and explore with me. But Clint loves you. And you love Clint. I can see myself loving you. Loving you both, really. And I hope you can see that too. But we’ve already discovered that it’s going to take a while for me to get past the sense that this is just some sort of hero-worship for you. And we are going to have to do a lot of work to make this _work_. I would understand if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“I want to fuck you.” Phil blurted out.

Steve laughed at the completely incongruous statement. “What?”

“Seeing you in this skirt, seeing you so comfortable with who you are, seeing how you took care of Clint, hearing how much you care about my happiness -- and his happiness -- it’s pushing a lot of my buttons and I really want to take you to bed.”

“Oh.” Steve thought for a moment. “I think I would be okay with that. I- uh- I think I need you not to touch my nipples or penis unless I ask you to.”

Phil nodded. “Can I kiss you? Can I compliment your body or call you sexy?”

“Yes to the kisses.” Steve considered the other question. “I don’t think I can handle comments about my body right now. I still feel dysphoric and even though I’m interested in having sex, I just don’t know what’s going to provoke a negative response. I also don’t know if I’ll get hard.” They sighed. “I’m sorry if this is ruining the mood.”

Slowly, so that Steve could pull away, Phil kissed each of their palms and then each cheek. “I am so honoured that you’re able to express your limits with me and that you feel like you trust me right now to be intimate. If that changes or I do something uncomfortable, we can stop. No matter how far we get, we can always stop. Okay?”

Steve smiled, “That’s good. Yes. Okay.”

“Do you want to take your clothes off? Keep them on? Or have me do something about them?”

This time, Steve grinned. “Let’s figure that out in the bedroom.”

Phil followed close behind, trying not to be obvious as he adjusted himself.

**Author's Note:**

> For a while there, I was trying to work on other stories that fit into the existing timelines. But screw it. I'm going to write whatever stories come to me, regardless of whether they really fit the existing stories.
> 
> Also, the sex scene coming up will be a separate posted story... maybe... eventually.


End file.
